


Deep Down In The Darkness Where We Belong

by MagpieMorality



Series: Writepie Prompt Fills [30]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angry Deceit, Angst and Feels, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders Angst, Deceit Sanders Angst, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Obsession, Remus Centric, no happy ending, scared remus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:35:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22801861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagpieMorality/pseuds/MagpieMorality
Summary: From this prompt:"Who wins in the angst contestRemus, who’s being trying to get attention because he’s been ignored his whole life only to be ignored again even though everyone knows he’s there.Deceit, who’s being trying to help Thomas the only way he knows how, just like all the other sides, and being called a Villain and or ignored most of the time and not even being invited/welcome in the movie night.? Who’s the winner?"
Relationships: Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders & Deceit Sanders
Series: Writepie Prompt Fills [30]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1638634
Comments: 2
Kudos: 49





	Deep Down In The Darkness Where We Belong

**Author's Note:**

> From this prompt:
> 
> "Who wins in the angst contest
> 
> Remus, who’s being trying to get attention because he’s been ignored his whole life only to be ignored again even though everyone knows he’s there.
> 
> Deceit, who’s being trying to help Thomas the only way he knows how, just like all the other sides, and being called a Villain and or ignored most of the time and not even being invited/welcome in the movie night.
> 
> ? Who’s the winner?"

It’s not a contest, Deceit says. It’s not something to be miserable about or wallow in or let consume you, Deceit says. It’s something to be proud of, to fight back against, to hold your middle finger up to and toss back in their faces like bricks, Deceit says. 

Well, Remus thinks, if only it was that easy. 

Deceit’s recent journeys to the Eden-like upstairs haven’t gone nearly as badly as his own. They must hurt, in their own different way, but instead of withering in pathetic shame like a kicked dog Deceit has gone from the fire and flame anger of their youth to the silent, deadly burning of a volcano waiting to explode. It scares Remus sometimes, this person he doesn’t know, ready to swallow them all whole in favour of playing the part they’ve assigned to them. 

“So, I’m the villain?! Let me be the villain!” Deceit rants, scaring Remus back into hiding in the dark shadows of the downstairs. He’s not the only thing that scuttles around in the black, out of the way of Deceit, trying to ignore the tempting, teasing, sweet pull of the door to the upstairs and the stairs beyond.

It had only taken once for Remus to learn how false the promises it whispers truly were. How the dreams it painted of soft, loving voices and fond smiles, of gentle touches and willing ears, of family and friendship and forever were _lies all lies_. 

That’s Deceit’s doing, conjured long ago with the sheer power of the longing he has to go up there with them, but he guards it jealously because that is his job, and his passion both. He’s martyred to it by now. Deceit treads the stairs regularly, creating a feedback loop of delicious lies that he fuels and is fuelled by and probably doesn’t even know which is which. He can’t go more than a few days without walking up them now, even if it’s only to peer through the top door to watch the Brady Bunch on the other side and gnash his teeth. Remus, however, won’t fall prey to that trap again. Now he revels in the comfort of the terrible voices in his head instead, gripping his ears tight until they’re all he can hear because he trusts the brutal honesty of them more than he trusts the false lure of the door and the staircase. Honesty is safe. Lies are like poison in the blood, and not the fun kind. 

Deceit desperately wants him to go up again, a battering ram against the forces that keep them locked down here (that keep Deceit locked down here, the door never once stopped Remus, only the dread of what awaited), but he doesn’t know he doesn’t understand he doesn’t feel the _horrible hurtful heartbreaking aching that Remus does_. He’s not made for feelings, the snake- he’s made for denial and self-preservation and they don’t make good bedfellows with hurt or insecurity or misery. 

No, Remus will stay here and melt into the floor like other sides before him, a pooling undercurrent of bad that Thomas will flatten in his repression, pushing him down, down, down. And the worst part of it all is- 

He doesn’t think anyone would even notice. Maybe not even Deceit. 

Mourning is just another one of those emotions he doesn’t do, after all. 


End file.
